


Blood with a Scent

by Neppy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/F, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-22 15:38:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11970420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neppy/pseuds/Neppy
Summary: The myth of the darkness, the perfect assassin, the eldest of the vampires is one day met with a strange, bothersome messenger. Their feelings develop into things neither of them expect, but not all stories may have happy endings.





	1. The Messenger

**Author's Note:**

> Please remember I was not going to post this!  
> I had this idea randomly at like 2 in the morning, it was supposed to be a oneshot and it ended being 30 pages so I just made some division for chapters.  
> Point is, this was TOTALLY rushed, TOTALLY unplanned, so there can be mistakes or even some weird bits here and there~

Blood…blood has a _scent_. A distinct smell that changed depending on the person it kept alive. Some blood was boring, its scent terrible, other blood was delicious and had a pleasant scent. Widowmaker, excellent vampire that she was, had grown used to distinguishing scents and therefore good meals but until that other woman had walked into the room she hadn’t believed blood could agitate her this way.

  
She was in a tavern, a place where men gathered to drink and tell stories, and woman came to flirt and show off. The establishment was of decent size, almost entirely of wood and filled with customers sitting or standing, almost all drunk but some people were there the same reasons as the widow. Work. She was an assassin of wide renown and more often than not people came here to find her and hire her. She could tell who was a hopeless flirt and an actual customer by the look on their faces, and if the former ever approached her glare stopped them cold, her golden eyes flashing momentarily. If a customer appeared she smiled dryly, as if giving them permission to sit and speak.

  
Yet this time her eyes didn’t flash and her lips didn’t bend, this time she bit her lip and had to put effort into not jumping out of her seat. Her heart was racing; her pale cheeks surely would have flushed if they could. The woman, owner of the blood with a _beautiful scent_ had just approached her table with the utmost confidence, sitting down with a pair of glasses and offering one to the Comtesse. She had messy, dark hair, light-brown eyes that sparkled with mischief, and tan skin. Most women wore dresses, even when going out, but some adventurers that had a fair amount of independence wore other things. This woman was wearing black leather pants, a simple t-shirt, and a wool coat.

 

Widowmaker noticed the looks of the men, and suddenly it dawned on her that they were being watched. She huffed and grabbed the glass, taking a delicate sip before setting it down.

  
“Finally, I thought you were gonna ogle me forever,” The woman joked, taking a long sip and then gagging. “Gah, the wine is terrible here.”

  
“What do you want?” Widowmaker asked, avoiding all formalities that normally accompanied business. Women rarely came to her, and when they did they were always housewives or broken-hearted girls that hadn’t lived a quarter of their life. This was not her average customer.

  
“Straight to the point, eh?” The other asked, sighing. Her cheerful smile lessened somewhat and set her glass down. “I have a message for you, actually.”

  
“A message from whom?” Widowmaker raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. Her glare, which normally struck fear, did nothing but make the other chuckle.

  
“They say you better leave, and fast,” She answered, completely ignoring the vampire. “Although why’d the want such a pretty face gone is beyond me.”

  
“This isn’t a game, _petite fille_ ,” Widowmaker hissed, glaring at her but she didn’t seem fazed. “Who sent you, and why are they saying this?”

  
“I’m just a messenger, love, I don’t know why people say what they say.” She shrugged, standing up and dusting herself off. “Best of luck, and if anyone asks I wasn’t here, yeah?” She turned to leave, but the widow grabbed her wrist. Now the other seemed tense, and her hand slid for something in her pocket.

  
“What is your name, girl?” Widowmaker whispered, making the other smile.

  
“Call me Tracer, love,” She replied, gently extracting herself. “And if you ever need a messenger come find me!”

  
After that she was gone in a blue flash and a wish of the air, leaving a very surprised Comtesse sitting by herself at the table. A sigh left Widowmaker’s lips as that wonderful scent disappeared, following Tracer through the door. But she wasn’t too disappointed, something told the widow they would meet again. And next time she would, hopefully, take a bite.

 

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

There it was again, after months, that scent. Widowmaker was on top of the church, looking down at the small town made of stone and wood. The windows were lit up, and some people were walking outside. This time of year was the coldest but it was also a time of celebration. Christmas, they called it. The town was filled with candles, decorations and such. Young couples walked arm-in-arm, older couples sat serenely on their porches. Everything was normal, everything was peaceful.

  
That is until her rifle lost a bullet.

  
Widowmaker didn’t believe in holidays and happy spirits. She believed in her work, and her work was to kill. For food? No, for pleasure and money. Even this, such a simple job, made her smile. The shot had been perfect, going right between the young man’s eyes. A chuckle escaped the widow’s lips as she saw his body remain standing for a few moments, his girlfriend looking at him with shock, before he fell back onto the ground. Her blood-curdling scream ripped the air and everyone stopped and turned to her. The panic would spread throughout this small town now and the people would spend their holidays in fear.

  
Not that she cared, of course. What she did care about was the woman that had dashed towards the dead man. She wore leather pants, a shirt, and a wool coat. Tracer. The young woman immediately turned toward the church as if she could see the sniper and without hesitation dashed toward the building. It wasn’t that close, yet in five seconds she had closed the distance. She blinked here and there in flashes of blue, startling people and scaring children. Although she’d prefer to drink her blood, Widowmaker could take no chances. She took aim at the next spot she assumed Tracer would reappear and waited. When the girl appeared, she fired and-

  
_“Quelle…?”_ She murmured in French, surprised. The bullet had missed her, no, she had dodged it with a slight movement of her head. How was that even possible? No one, not even the fastest, could dodge a bullet. Yet there she stood, smiling proudly before blinking onto the church.

  
“There you are, love,” She said with a giggle. “What’s wrong? Looks like you’re surprised to see me.”

  
“What type of witchcraft is this?!?” Widowmaker hissed, standing up and aiming her rifle at Tracer. “How did you dodge my bullet?”

  
“Maybe you’re just not as skilled as you thought,” Tracer taunted, hands going proudly to her hips in a heroic fashion. “But didn’t I tell you to leave a few months ago? My employer wasn’t joking, y’know.”

  
“Yes, well, I am not afraid of a person who won’t even speak to me themselves,” The Assassin answered harshly. “And why do you care? Leave me, _fille.”_  
“Oh I don’t care about you being in danger,” She replied cheerfully, pulling out two odd pistols that glowed blue. “You have more worries right now, like me. You think you can just shoot a man on Christmas and get away with it?”

  
“Well-“

  
“Don’t even answer,” She snapped. “You have one chance to turn yourself in, Widowmaker, before I kill you.” She raised her pistols to level with the widow’s rifle, and they both shared a challenging look.

  
“Vampires are already dead,” Widowmaker whispered, firing.

  
Tracer blinked out of the way and fired little blue projectiles from both her pistols. Widowmaker spun behind the chimney and her rifle changed into a machine gun. She spun back into view and returned fire, but Tracer blinked behind her.

  
“Too slow!” She cheered, blinking again as Widow turned. “Oh, almost!” She blinked again. “Hey, I think that one nearly nicked me!”

  
_“Rester encore!”_ Widowmaker yelled as the other continued to blink here and there, taunting her and not even firing her weapons. This was insulting, no one had ever been this much of a challenge to her, and yet Tracer made it look easy.

  
“What? I don’t speak baguette,” She replied with a laugh, blinking once more. Widowmaker clenched her teeth and dropped her rifle and as Tracer reappeared she tackled her, going faster than normal humans could. The smaller girl yelped and her weapons went flying away, she tried to blink but the widow held her firmly down.

  
“Game over,” She hissed, baring her fangs. Her eyes light up as well and now the color drained from Tracer’s face.

  
“Your…you’re a vampire!” She exclaimed.

  
“Of course,” Widowmaker sighed, rolling her eyes. “You're fast but quite stupid.”

  
“Well, I mean, I did get that creepy vibe-“

  
“Do you not understand the danger you are in?” Widowmaker interrupted, raising an eyebrow. With one hand she pulled the wool coat down, revealing Tracer’s tender neck. “I could kill you, or turn you, right now. Your life is my choice.”

  
“Well, you wouldn’t turn me, I know you vampires are so picky,” Tracer said casually as if she weren’t pinned down and being threatened. “Besides, you’re so proud. But death…now that’s a possibility for sure!”

  
“Then why are you so happy?!?” Widowmaker asked, shaking her a bit. It was so annoying and beyond the sniper how this girl could simply be so happy and casual under her hold, she was the Widowmaker! The best assassin of the land, and a vampire! Where was the fear? Where was the begging? The tears? This was not what she was used to. Tracer purred, leaning upward. Their lips were a mere inch apart, and the widow could feel her warm breath. Suddenly that neck seemed so much more alluring, one quick bite-

  
“Well, Widowmaker, I’m happy because I have you beat.”

  
“Oh? And how is that?” Widowmaker raised an eyebrow, curious.

  
“Because you spent too much time chatting, ta ta!”

  
Tracer suddenly began glowing an intense blue and her body turned transparent. She shot backward as if going in reverse from her previous actions. She was now standing safely in the center of the rooftop, both pistols aimed at the widow.

  
“How do you say it? Ah, _au revior?”_ Tracer asked before pulling the triggers. Widowmaker didn’t hesitate and let herself tumbled off the edge, landing on her feet at the bottom. This did not hurt her of course, her vampiric abilities keeping her safe. Without hesitating, she dashed off in direction of the forest. The angry screams of the townspeople, and Tracers bullets, soon disappeared behind her.

  
_You caught me by surprise this time, Cherie,_ Widowmaker thought. _But next time will be different._


	2. Feels Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note! I uploaded this the first time WRONG. Only half the chapter or so was on here, this is the full thing, it should definitely be right this time~

"There you are,” Widowmaker whispered, observing her prey from afar. That girl was walking peacefully down the streets. Just as their previous encounter, it was dark outside. This was a new town, but it looked much like the other. Tracer had the nerve to carry Widow’s rifle around like a trophy. She seemed to simply carry it and show it off, and every time she spoke Widowmaker could imagine how she boasted.

  
_This thing? Yeah, I got this thing from a vampire. She was so weak!_

  
_The rifle is good, I suppose, but the owner was terrible! She was so cocky._

  
Just thinking about it made the sniper’s blood boil, and her thoughts spurred her into action. She made her way into the town, careful to stay hidden from anyone and everyone. After last time news of her had spread like wildfire. She had always been more of a legend, a myth. No one could prove her existence. After she fought with Tracer? People were well aware, there were bounties and search parties. It had been terrible, so bad she couldn’t even feed. She was starving right now, even if she wouldn’t let it show. And if someone saw her now she’d have to kill them or run away. Perhaps she could grab a bite before going after Tracer…

  
_Non,_ I must focus, she reminded herself.

  
She was in the town now, making her way through the shadowy alleyways and darkened buildings. She was quick and quiet, making only the slightest sound. Whenever someone spoke she’d pause and remain hidden until the voices passed. She could smell Tracer, any vampire would be able to, and she followed her scent to the source, her body. She could see the girl now, looking at the crafts of a poor man on the street. They were terrible if one were being honest, a poor attempt to make money yet Tracer observed them with utmost interest. She exchanged some words with the man there before grabbing a vial and handing him some coins. He spouted something else, perhaps a thank you, and she decided to leave. Widowmaker wanted to follow her, but something had sparked her curiosity. That man was smirking in a very accomplished way with a glimmer in his eyes that reminded the widow of when she-

  
_When she murdered someone._

  
The sniper looked both ways and, sure that they were alone, dashed into view and towards the man. He saw her and his face turned to horror, but before he could yell she closed the distance and grabbed his throat with one hand, lifting him into the air. Her eyes held his in a deadly glare, and he stopped panicking as much. Smart man, he knew she wanted something.

  
“What did you give the idiot that was just here?” She whispered.

  
“A-a trinket, a little souvenir, nothing else!” He answered, gagging and choking as she tightened her grip.

  
“I will give you one more chance before I rip you apart in the slowest and most painful way possible,” She said, dropping him to the ground. He grabbed his throat, coughing, and retching for a few moments before looking up at her.

  
“Poison, I gave her poison,” He admitted.

  
“Why?” She asked.

  
“She’s been searching for someone, and this has angered plenty of people, so it was my job to kill her,” He answered. “I-I was only doing what I was told! I didn’t _want_ to kill her I swear, b-but they promised to give me a home, to get me off these disgusting streets!”

  
Widowmaker narrowed her eyes at him, doing a tsk tsk tsk sound. Without hesitation she kicked him in the throat, her heel piercing it. She pulled out it and the blood poured through the hole, creating a disgusting scent that filled the air and made the assassin want to gag herself. But she ignored it and began walking down the street, towards Tracer’s scent. Would this girl be as idiotic as to drink that poison? They still had a score to settle, and if she died in such a stupid way the widow would never forgive her. If she was to die, it’d be with Widowmaker’s teeth through her neck. She sniffed the air, making a right, and suddenly the sweet smell turned sour, tainted. Widowmaker burst into a dash, making her way through the streets closer and closer to Tracer. Her heart, for the first time since she was turned, actually began to beat. She skidded to a stop at the entrance of an alleyway and looked inside.

  
_“Merde.”_

  
Tracer was lying on the floor, looking up at the sky. She had dropped the vial and the sniper’s rifle and seemed to be making a real effort to breathe. She groaned in pain and her hands went to her stomach, gripping the coat tightly. As she walked closer Widowmaker saw her mouth was foaming a bit. Her eyes were filled with tears and she was shaking lightly.

  
“Well, I didn’t think you’d actually trust a vagabond,” Widowmaker muttered. Tracer went eye-wide and, with a cry of pain, forced herself into sitting position. She blinked several times as if she had difficulty seeing, but she eventually focused on the widow. Her mouth opened to speak but all she managed was a squeak, in the end, she kept her mouth shut and weakly grabbed the rifle in both hands, presenting it to Widowmaker. When the assassin didn’t react she rolled her eyes and pushed leaned forward.

  
“You…you were looking for me, weren’t you?” Widowmaker murmured, to which Tracer nodded. “To return my weapon?” Another nod. “Why? Why would you do such a thing? We are enemies, thanks to you I’m starved, I’m out of work, I’m hunted, and thanks to me you’re nearly dead. Yet, even now, you are returning my weapon to me.”

  
“I…I didn’t think it was fair,” Tracer croaked, tears falling down her cheeks. “Any other murderer would have been left alone, but because you’re a vampire, people are hunting you. It was unfair.”

  
“Why would you care whether I am treated fairly or not?’ Widowmaker demanded, swatting the gun away and gripping the smaller girl’s shoulders. “Why would you care at all!”

  
“I…I just do,” Tracer whispered, her eyes closing and her body going limp. She wasn’t dead, not yet, but Widowmaker could tell she was getting weaker by the second. She needed help, and now. Without hesitation, Widowmaker slung the rifle across her back, picked up the broken vial of poison and stuffed it in her pocket. She then grabbed Tracer and lifted her bridal style.

  
There was one way to save Tracer, and it required Widowmaker to see an old friend.

 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

It had been days now, but it felt longer. Widowmaker had spent the entire time watching over Tracer, lest someone climb through the window and actually kill her this time. The girl had been in a peaceful sleep ever since she received the cure. Her face sometimes bent into a sweet smile, and other times she screamed in horror, but physically she would be fine, albeit weak. Widow often wondered what she was seeing in her dreams, what could she possibly fear so much as to scream like that, or what had the power to bring her peace and make her smile. It was interesting to her, and she found herself unable to tear her eyes away from the beautiful woman as she slept. Several times her friend, Sombra, would come to administer more of the cure or just make sure she was ok. As soon as Widowmaker had returned to this castle, the place that was once her home, Sombra had welcomed her back with open arms and immediately got to work on Tracer. Sombra’s magic and technology were beyond the assassin, but whatever she did worked because within two hours she declared Tracer would survive and merely required sleep.

  
Widowmaker was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice when Tracer began to stir, frowning at first, then slowly opening her eyes. She blinked a few times then looked to her side, her frown only growing when she saw Widowmaker.

  
“Uh…hello?” She croaked, flinching as light pain rose through her throat. Widowmaker refocused on Tracer and sighed in relief, her eyes softening only a fraction.

  
_“Bonjour_ , how do you feel?” Widowmaker asked quietly.

  
“Like someone cooked me, froze me, then re-cooked me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this bad,” She replied, groaning as she sat up. “Why are you here? Where am I? Who are you exactly?”

  
“You don’t…remember me?” Widowmaker asked, raising an eyebrow.

  
“I remember giving you a message, although that’s a bit blurry, if we met after that I don’t remember,” Tracer answered, rubbing her stomach with one hand. “I’m absolutely famished, but my stomach feels terrible too.”

  
“Yes, you were poisoned,” Widowmaker said, standing up. “It attacked your organs, slowly deteriorating them, but I found you and brought you here.”

  
“Why’d you save me, love? I don’t know much about you, but I could tell you aren’t the type to do a good deed for no reason. You are an assassin after all.”

  
“It’s…a long story,” Widowmaker admitted. “I’ll go get my friend, she’ll want to see you now.”

  
“I- Could you stay here for a bit, please?” Tracer asked quietly. Widowmaker raised an eyebrow but sat back down. Tracer sighed and laid back down, staring at the ceiling. “So, someone tried to murder me, eh? I never imagined that happening. I’m just a messenger after all. Do you have any idea what I was doing, that they’d want me dead?”

  
“No…none at all,” Widowmaker lied. She did know why Tracer had been hunted down, she had been hunted because she was searching for Widowmaker herself and that must have attracted the wrong attention. It was, in a way, Widowmaker’s fault. After all, Tracer was trying to do a good deed for her, trying to return her weapon.

  
“Thank you,” Tracer said, looking at the assassin with a small smile. “Thank you for saving me, ah…um-“

  
“Amelie,” Widowmaker supplied. Again, her heart began to beat, probably due to the use of her old name. The name she had when she was human before she was turned into this.

  
“Thanks, Amelie, and you can call me Lena,” She said. The widow’s heart beat faster at the mention of the name.

  
_Lena._

  
“I will go get you some food now, you’ve been asleep for a few days, Sombra said you’d need something to eat.”

  
With that, Widowmaker left the room. She didn’t return, instead, Sombra came with a grin, holding a plate of meat and bringing some drink, probably wine. Lena found this to be a bit…disappointing, but she happily accepted the meal and the woman’s help.

  
She wouldn’t see Widowmaker again for several days, not until she herself began roaming the castle. Lena was wearing a simple, white silk gown that had been left for her. Despite being here for a few days her body ached with each step, and she found herself thinking about finding Sombra instead so she could get painkillers. She was at one of the highest floors of the castle, which was apparently Widowmaker’s, and all thoughts of pain left her as she found the porch with its wide glass doors open. Widowmaker was standing by the edge, wearing the same clothes as always and looking up at the moon. She seemed so peaceful, so calm, Lena almost left her alone. But there was this urge, this pressure in her chest that just made her quietly approach the assassin. She made sure her presence was known by her footsteps, standing next to Widowmaker without a word. Her eyes turned to the taller woman and then followed their gaze, up towards the moon.

  
“Beautiful, no?” Widowmaker asked quietly.

  
“Lovely, yeah.” Was Lena’s reply. “Aren’t you cold out here?”

  
“I don’t feel cold…I don’t feel anything.”

  
“Anything at all?” Lena inquired, raising an eyebrow and shifting to face the sniper. “Not the breeze of the wind, or the weight of your clothes?”

  
“No, not like that,” Widow snapped, giving the other a half-hearted glare. “In my mind and body. I don’t- I shouldn’t feel anything.”

  
“But you do, don’t you?” Lena whispered, taking a step closer to Widowmaker. “It’s- It’s something in your eyes, and the way you talk, it just gives it away. You seemed confused last time we spoke, and now this. Amelie if there’s a problem, please, just tell-“

  
Suddenly, fast as lighting, the widow grabbed Lena’s shoulders and pulled her close, those cold lips pressing themselves softly, yet firmly, against the warmer ones. After a moment of surprise, Lena wrapped her arms around Widowmaker and closed her eyes, returning the kiss with a surprising tenderness and care.

  
“I don’t know why,” Amelie said as she pulled away, looking distraught. “Or how, or when, but it just feels-“

  
“Feels right?” Lena asked quietly, smiling a bit. “I don’t understand it either, but I feel the same. It’s just right.”

  
Amelie smiled, for once in her life, and it held an emotion she hadn’t felt in decades, if not centuries. It held love, an immense love for Lena that she knew would never vanish, a sudden protectiveness too, and that smiled remained as their lips met again in the light of the moonlight.

 


	3. I Love You

It was time. It was time to admit the truth, it was time to tell her everything, every last bit. Amelie couldn’t hide anything for much longer, nor did she feel ok with hiding things anymore. Lena deserved to know.

  
It was late at night, and the castle was quiet and still as could be. A soft breeze made its ways through the halls and the candlelight swayed just a bit, but besides that things were peaceful. Sombra would be God knows where, playing with her magic and technology, and Lena would be in her room, probably reading a book or having a late night snack. After that night, the night of the kiss, Lena hadn’t left the castle. Months had passed and the messenger never even mentioned leaving, although Amelie had caught her wistful glances out the windows, her unhappy sighs as she walked the same hallways. Amelie, of course, offered to take her out but Lena always refused. However, this is not what Amelie wished to speak about tonight, and her mind went over the words she’d use and how she’d use them as she paced the hallways towards Lena’s room. When she arrived she noted the door was cracked open, and some giggles could be heard inside. Amelie gently pushed the door open and walked inside, raising an eyebrow at the scene.   
Lena was sitting cross-legged on her messy bed, smiling widely at some book. No, not just any book, a photo book. She turned the page and cooed as if she were seeing a baby-  
“Lena, where did you get that?” Amelie asked with a sigh, making the messenger jump.

  
“This? Oh, I just poked around-“

  
“Sombra gave it to you, didn’t she?”

  
“Weeell…” Lena shrugged, beaconing the widow forward. “I should’ve looked at them with you, you’re so cute!” She excitedly turned the book to show Amelie the pictures, pictures of the assassin when she was a baby. In one she was sitting on a table wearing nothing more than a hat, smiling stupidly, in another she was a few years older, standing next to-

  
“Is that…is that a dead wolf…?” Lena murmured, squinting somewhat as if she weren’t seeing correctly. “Why are you holding that thing? Oh, you were part of a family of hunters? But blood’s oozing out of its neck and, are those…fangs?” She turned to Amelie, looking hopelessly confused. Of course, she didn’t remember this, she didn’t remember anything after her message.

  
“This is one of the reasons I came to talk to you,” Amelie murmured, gently closing the album and putting it aside. “I am, as you can see, a vampire.”

  
“Oh I know,” Lena admitted with a smile. “Just messing with ya, love.”

  
“Wait- What?!? When did you remember? How much? Lena I-“

  
“Oi! I don’t remember much, just that you’re a vampire, our little brawl at the village. After that, it’s all gone. I began remembering about a week ago, why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

  
 “There was so much to tell, and I wasn’t sure how, but I steeled my resolve for today. I didn’t expect you to figure it out like this,” Amelie replied.

  
“Well? Don’t stop, tell me the whole bit, go on!” Lena ordered, shifting herself to face the sniper. She had a bubbly happiness to her, she also had that spark of curiosity, and Amelie decided to speak before that curiosity ran out.

  
She told Lena of her life, how she was born as a vampire, how her family had raised her to become a murderer, a being with no feelings and no qualms about killing, she spoke of how she began at the age of twenty, by murdering her own husband, whom she had married four years before, and that she had killed him as an initiation of sorts. She also told her lover of her growing fame, how her work was needed by more people, some good, some bad, some desperate and how her reputation had gotten so big she had to escape her country because they were hunting her at every corner. They knew her as _La Comtesse de Paris,_ The Widow of Paris. She came to this land, England, and began a new life, taking more care into hiding herself. She turned into a myth, her name being changed into the Widowmaker. She bought this castle with the riches she brought from France and made a living through murder, feeding off the weak or the people stupid enough to get too close to her.

  
“My life continued like this until you arrived and, as they say, the rest is history,” Amelie finished. “Please know, despite who I am, what I’ve felt and feel for you was never a lie. My heart, it isn’t supposed to beat but-“ She took Lena’s wrist and pressed the others hand against her chest. Her heart was racing. She sounded desperate. “But you feel it, it is giving me emotions I never felt, something most vampires never do.”

  
“Amelie I-“

  
 _“S'il vous plait,_ I know I am a monster-“

  
Amelie was interrupted by a slap. Lena had pulled her hand away and slapped her, hard enough for the sound to be heard out the door, for the imprint of her hand to be left on the vampire’s face. Then, without hesitation, she pulled Amelie into a tight hug.

  
“You idiot,” She whispered, smiling a bit. “I don’t care about what you were, or what you’ve done, I love you for god’s sake.”

  
 _I love you_. Those words reverberated in Amelie’s ears and she was frozen for a count of five. It was only when Lena pulled away, her smile growing, did Amelie blink and focus on her.

  
“I love you too,” She whispered, and that was it, that was all that either of them needed to hear.

  
They surged forward as one for a loving kiss, holding each other in their arms and getting more passionate with each second. Amelie pushed Lena against the bed softly, getting on top of the messenger and straddling her waist. Their tongues now fought for dominance in each other’s mouths and much to Amelie’s surprise Lena was having a good time roaming with her hands, those warm fingers making the sniper’s skin tingle. Within a few seconds, she had disposed of the clothing on her upper body, leaving only the bra, and her hands went underneath the gown that Lena wore, the icy fingers gripping sliding up her side until they reached her breast. She began rubbing gently and Lena pulled away, breathing hard and sighing in pleasure. Amelie smiled and began leaving little kiss from her collar bone to her neck, to her lips once more. They spent the night having such fun, between giggles, sighs, gasps, moans and most importantly the warmth and passion of each other. By the end, with both of them nude on the bed, Amelie noticed something she had grown so accustomed to she had nearly forgotten it was there.

  
_That scent._

  
She got on her knees and hands, looking down at the messenger who was trapped beneath her, panting and smiling widely, and her eyes went to Lena’s neck. That tender, delicate piece of the body that expanded and contracted with each breath. Amelie was about to look away, to banish the mere thought of biting her lover, when a firm hand went behind her neck and pulled her down, leaving the sniper’s lips a mere inch from her neck.

  
“Please, take what you want,” Lena whispered, her hand now gently stroking Amelie’s hair. “Then we can live together, forever.”

  
“Lena, are you-“

  
“Amelie, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” Lena interrupted, pressing her soft lips against the widow’s cheek. “Go ahead.”

  
Amelie planted her hands firmly on each of Lena’s shoulders, and her eyes shined for a second, she bared her fangs and slowly, gently, bit into her lover’s neck. As any living thing would, she fought it. Lena whimpered and squirmed, her hands weakly gripping Amelie’s hair and her heart racing. However, vampire bites had a special something that pleased and calmed the victim. Within a few moments, Lena smiled and her arms fell down, and Amelie sucked her blood with relish, completely in control. Her blood tasted even better than it smelled, better than Amelie had ever imagined, but she wouldn’t drink more than she needed to, and after a few minutes she pulled away, licking her lips and smiling down at Lena. A bit of blood slid down the side of her lips, but she didn’t know or care.

  
“It is done,” Amelie whispered, planting a kiss on Lena’s forehead.

  
“That was…wonderful,” Lena answered, opening her eyes and smiling. “Just as our lives will be.” 


	4. Unexpected

Neither of them had expected what would happen next, how could they have known? How could they have even suspected?

  
Later, that same night, footsteps could be heard through the hallways, quick and agile, the glint of metal in the candlelight could be seen. Both of the women were asleep, and neither heard the men roaming the hallways. Whoever they were, they knew what they were looking for because they took a direct path to the bedroom. One opened the door without a sound and walked inside. He had a bow, and his partner had a metal body and a sword that glowed green. Amelie stirred as they got closer, her vampiric senses noticing them on some level. Perhaps the smell? But as she sat up and opened her eyes, something hit her chest and electrocuted her. Her mouth opened in silent pain and she fell to the ground.

  
“What…Amelie? Amelie! Hey, let go of- Bugger off!” Lena yelled, but Amelie couldn’t see her, she was losing consciousness. She heard the three scuffling around, Lena yelling out to her one more time before everything went dark.

  
…

  
…

  
…

  
“Wake up.”

 

“…”

 

“Wake up!”

  
Amelie’s body suddenly jolted, her eyes blinking rapidly as she tried to see. She was in a room, a very dark room. No, it was a cell. A cold breeze told her she was covered in what could be considered rags, and as her mind began to focus she realized that she was hanging on a wall, cold metal shackles holding her ankles and neck. She frowned as she saw the man with the bow in front of her, with facial features that were clearly Asian.  He set his bow against the wall, crossing his arms and staring up at Amelie.

  
“Where is Lena?” Amelie asked, her voice deadly, her eyes holding Hanzo’s glare.

  
“Her name is Lena? Hm, no matter. The traitor is being dealt with,” He replied.

  
“Traitor?” Her eyes narrowed, but her confusion was obvious.

  
“For consenting to participate in such despicable actions with a vampire,” Hanzo said as if it were extremely clear. “She has betrayed mankind, turned into a vampire herself, and has allowed evil to enter her body.”

  
“She is merely a woman who fell in love,” Amelie hissed, her body tensing. “Do not punish her!”

  
“She will be judged by the townsfolk and prosecuted,” Hanzo continued, smiling and turning around. He walked to the entrance then looked over his shoulder, his smile only grew. “Most likely, especially with my brother Genji foreseeing things, she will be crucified, gagged, doused in oil and burned alive for everyone to watch.”

  
Amelie and Hanzo stared at each other to a count of five, and her face broke into a smile. She giggled, just a bit at first, but then more and more until she was laughing insanely at the top of her lungs, the shackles dug into her skin as she moved but she didn’t stop laughing. Hanzo’s stone face broke into a nervous one, and he walked back towards the widow.

  
“What is so funny?” He demanded, one hand grabbing the sniper’s neck.

  
“You’re going to die before the oil is even taken out,” She answered, breaking the chains as if they were string and snapping Hanzo’s neck. She pulled the shackle off her neck off and tossed it to the ground, looking at the corpse with disgust. “Your brother will be with you soon, unless he hurt Lena, in that case,…he’ll wish he were dead.”

  
Amelie noticed her rifle propped against a wall and picked it up, making sure it was locked and loaded before sniffing the air. They must be close to the town because Amelie could smell Lena. It was faint, but it was there. She followed the smell of her lover’s blood through the dark hallways of whatever dungeon they had put her in, running at top speed in a few seconds. She didn’t encounter anyone else, but the smell was getting stronger and stronger. Amelie’s heart began beating in a panicked, even scared manner. She could feel a soft breeze and saw a heavy padlocked wooden door in front. Without hesitation she broke through the door, ignoring the small cuts the wood created as it broke. She sniffed the air again and was disturbed by the sudden strength in Lena’s scent. It only took a few minutes to find the source. Blood, as she walked through the forest she found a tree splattered with blood. Too much blood…she slowed to a jog, following more blotches of blood here and there and that’s when she found the corpses. At least six people, all covered in large cuts or run through with stones or sharp sticks. The widow’s eyes scanned the bodies and she knelt, pressing one hand carefully against a specific spot of blood. She pressed a finger to her hand and stood up.

  
That was Lena’s blood among the bodies.

  
She assumed her lover had tried to fight off the townsfolk, but they had eventually wounded her and taken her away. The town shouldn’t be far now and Amelie began running again. She found no interference and each step she took gave her a deeper sense of dread. She paused at the town gate, noticing there was no one standing guard, and a roar could be heard farther ahead. The roar of a crowd, a crowd that wanted blood. Her heart beat with fear and she dashed to the town center, the normal place of execution. As she got closer, running past houses and stores, she could see the light of flames and hear the yelling of the townsfolk. Their curses, their wishes, their bloodlust. She had just made it to the square, hiding in the shadows of some trees, from there she could see the horrific display.

There was a large stone church, threatening in the center of the area. In front of it stood a small wooden stage with a hastily made cross and on that cross-

“Lena,” She whispered. Lena’s hands were bound, spread out, on the cross and her ankles were tied together. It was like Jesus, but she was nude and her body was covered in smaller wounds. Cuts, bruises, and so on. Her mouth had been gagged and a rope tied around her neck kept her face up. Her eyes showed a fear greater than any Amelie had ever seen.

  
As if sensing, or perhaps smelling, the sniper’s presence she tried to look around, her fists opening and closing as she tried to break the ropes but they held her fast, she was too weak right now.

  
“Lena Oxton!” An elderly man, probably the mayor of the town, yelled. The crowd went silent, but their pitchforks and torches were raised. “You have betrayed mankind! You allowed a vampire to convert you, and not any, you let the dreaded _Widowmaker_ seduce and control you. For this evil, you will be burned, and let this be an example to others who may be tempted!”

  
Lena wasn’t listening. Her eyes had been looking over the crowd and the area desperately, and she almost seemed to forget the fact that she was about to be executed. Finally, they seemed to focus on the clump of trees, and although she couldn’t see Amelie her eyes sent a silent message, she pleaded with all her soul.

  
_Run._

  
But Amelie wouldn’t allow it, couldn’t allow it. She had tricked others, used them, and left them to die. Lena was not one of those people, she was important, she was needed. Amelie _loved her_ , and if she had to die for Lena she would. That, she had already decided. With this in mind, she clicked the safety off her gun and walked into view. No one saw her, they were all focused on Lena, and fear spread through them the moment Amelie took aim and pulled the trigger. The mayor, who was about to light the sticks and wood beneath Lena’s cross, fell back into the crowd with a hole in his head. A few seconds later a woman screamed, and now everyone turned to see the shooter.

  
 _“Bonjour,”_ She said, her voice deadly as snakes. “You’ve taken what is mine, and now you will die.”

  
“Fools! We outnumber her! Attack!” Some idiot yelled, and Amelie shot him in the head. Before the others could do anything her rifle changed into a machine gun and she sprayed bullets over the front line. A dozen people fell, dead and dying, and the rest screamed and tried to run away. Amelie dropped her gun and charged forward, a blur of purple as she ran between people, slashing their throats open faster than they could react. In a minute another dozen people were on the floor, and the rest had scattered. She turned to Lena, who looked equal parts hurt, relieved and sorry. Despite the fact that they had attacked her, beaten her, and tried to execute her she still felt bad for the humans.

  
“I will get you down, Lena!” Amelie called, swiftly jumping on the tiny stage and then on the cross. She held on with one hand and her feet, the other pulling down Lena’s gag. She gave the Brit a quick kiss, ignoring the taste of oil, which must have been poured over her body. “I’ll untie you and we must go, far away.”

  
“A-amelie I-“

  
“Hush, it will all be ok,” Amelie promised, going for one of the hands.

  
“Amelie!”

  
Amelie heard a man yell and felt herself ripped off the cross, thrown several feet away. As she fell she rolled back onto her feet, hissing at the newcomer. A memory flickered, and she recognized this man. The other vampire hunter, Hanzo’s brother.

  
“You must be Genji,” Amelie said quietly. He held a sword that glowed green, and his body seemed mostly mechanical. “Hanzo’s brother, the other vampire hunter.”

  
“You are correct, Miss Widowmaker,” Genji answered respectfully. “And it is my duty to kill you, and all vampires.”

  
“Lena has done nothing, she does not deserve death,” Amelie replied, glancing at her lover.

  
“Amelie, leave! Please! I don’t want you to die!” Lena yelled, her eyes tearing up.

  
“I am sorry, but neither of you will leave this place alive,” Genji said. “Widowmaker, eldest of the vampires, master assassin. For your crimes against the people of this world, you shall die.”

  
“The only one to die here will be you,” Amelie replied, baring her fangs.

  
Without hesitation, the two charged each other, soon tangled in a deadly dance. Genji slashed quickly with his sword, aiming for her legs, arms, and when he could her heart. Widowmaker, for the second time in her immortal life, found herself in a difficult situation. But she had Lena’s blood the night before, and not just to feed, she had it through the bond of love. They would be forever linked, and this link would provide each of them power. Amelie dodged all of Genji’s attacks, countering with her bare fists. She ducked under the sword and punched him in the gut, flipping backward before kicking. He blocked the kick and spun, throwing shuriken but she side-stepped and tackled him. He fell down and dropped his sword, grappling with her. She hissed and pounded on his mask with her fists, but he head-butted her and pushed her off, grabbing the sword and rolling onto his feet.

  
“Amelie!” Lena yelled, and the assassin’s eyes turned to her lover. For the first time in her life, Amelie felt fear. Some fallen torch must have ignited something on the ground because there was a blaze crawling towards the stage. It would be a bit before the flames reached Lena, but with Genji here…

  
“If you let me save her, we will leave and never return, we will never hurt a soul,” Amelie offered desperately, watching as Lena squirmed in her bonds uselessly. “I swear it on everything! My life, her life, our power, everything!”

“Vampiric oaths are worthless to me!” Genji yelled back, charging. Amelie ran to meet him and in the last second hit the floor, sliding under him and getting back up faster than one believed possible. She completely ignored the ninja and ran towards Lena.

  
“Amelie watch out!” Lena yelled, and Amelie rolled to the side, barely avoiding three shurikens. She spun and was tackled by Genji, her hands on his wrists, keeping the sword mere inches from entering her throat.

  
“Your sword…it is made of something different,” Amelie muttered, her arms shaking slightly as she tried to match the cyborg's massive strength.

  
“It is made with the blood of previous kills, of elder vampires,” Genji answered, slowly forcing his hands down. An inch away from her neck Amelie redirected it sideways, kicking Genji off of herself and turning to Lena, she bolted by a firm hand grabbed her ankle and she fell to the floor. “You will not save your victim!”

  
She hissed, kicking him in the face repeatedly. On the last kick, he grabbed her foot, trying to pull her back. Amelie glanced at Lena and saw that the flames were nearly to the bottom of the cross. The minute they hit the oil there, it would fly over her body. Amelie yelled out in anger, kicking Genji again and he finally let go. She dashed to Lena and climbed the cross as easily as if she had been running on it.

  
“Uh, not to worry you, love, but could you hurry?” Lena asked worriedly. Amelie didn’t even bother to answer, one hand pulling at the ropes and snapping them instantly.

  
“No!” Genji yelled, and suddenly Amelie was back on the floor, behind Lena. She didn’t know how it was possible, what he had done, but his firm metal hands held her down and his body was on top of hers.

  
“Amelie!” Lena yelled, looking behind. “One second, I’ll be right-

  
The flames licked the oil, and suddenly the flames danced up the cross and across Lena’s body. Amelie couldn’t see her lover’s expression, but she could see how Lena’s body shook and convulsed in pain, she could hear the blood-curdling scream that came from Lena’s mouth and would permanently scar her, she could see how the ropes burned away and her body fell to the floor, how she moved and rolled uncontrollably trying to put the fire out. Amelie could hear her own name being yelled time and time again yet she was unable to stop this, trapped beneath the enemy and unable to remove her eyes from this terrible spectacle. Finally, she stopped moving, and Amelie could barely hear the words “I love you” before her eyes closed. Amelie screamed, yelled, kicked, punched, tears breaking out and pouring down her face. She cursed, she begged, she said anything and everything, until she was a sobbing mess on the ground, still held by Genji.

  
“This is the punishment for your kind,” Genji whispered, and she could hear another blade being unsheathed.

  
“This isn’t the end…” Amelie murmured, and as soon as she said this a spark of hope burned within her. There was still something she could do, a way to save Lena. But it would be impossible if she died here.

  
“Goodbye, monster,” Genji replied. “May whatever god that exists have mercy on your soul.”

  
“I will get her back!” Amelie yelled, suddenly head-butting the robot on top of her. He reeled back and she bolted forward, not even bothering to fight him or go for Lena.

  
She had only one more chance, one more chance to be happy and to save Lena. She had to visit an old…friend.

  
It was time Amelie go see the Witch.


	5. Already Resurrected

The night was cool, but not freezing, the sky clear, but not beautiful, the forest silent, but not peaceful. Everywhere Amelie went things seemed to be the same, as if there was no life whatsoever in the world, not since Lena had been murdered…but that would soon change. Amelie would bring Lena back and put an end to this misery, the two of them would run far, far away where they could live in peace and be happy. She smiled at the thought, stopping in the middle of the empty dirt clearing surrounded by trees to look into the night sky and think about this.

  
“Yes…just the two of us…alone, together,” She murmured, the ghost of a smile appearing. She had turned more prone to moments like this, more prone to emotions since she had fallen in love and then lost the person that was once her enemy. She didn’t mind her new emotions either.

  
First, she would have to get Lena back, and for that, she would have to visit that old friend, the Witch. Amelie had met the Witch only once and the two had nearly killed each other, the vampire had been forced to retreat but she never forgot the amount of power this woman held. It could bring monsters to life, control weak-willed people, change memories and…and bring the dead back to life.

  
The sniper was thinking of all this as she approached an old, run down castle. It hadn’t changed much from last time, the walls and gate were still crumbling, the little metal rusted beyond repair. The entrance led towards a massive courtyard and the crumbling, yet still, the gigantic castle stood after the yard. Much like last time, Amelie simply strode through the damaged gates and to the middle of the courtyard. She waited a few minutes, clicking the safety off on her rifle, and looked around. Last time the Witch had simply appeared to her…would that happen again?

  
“Come out come out wherever you are,” Amelie cooed, taking a hesitant step forward, then another, then another. At the third, she felt the air around her tingle, as if a presence had joined her.

  
“My my,” A beautiful, female voice said, coming from all around her. “Look who has returned.”

  
“Come out Witch, we need to have a talk,” Amelie answered seriously, keeping her rifle ready. She didn’t trust this woman, if the Witch could be called a woman, and knew better than to lower her guard.

  
“After last time you wish to talk?” The Witch asked, some amusement in her voice. “I find that very hard to believe. Even if you wanted to talk, what makes you think I am willing to do so?”

  
“Because I have an offer you cannot refuse,” Amelie replied, spinning around. “What I ask for in return isn’t even difficult, not for you.”

  
“Hm, let me think about this…” The Witch’s voice hummed. “No.”

  
Suddenly the hairs on the sniper’s neck stood up, she froze and listened carefully for any action around her.

  
_Snap._

  
Widowmaker spun low as the branch behind her broke, tripping someone that turned into black mist and floated away. Widowmaker fired a burst of gunfire but it zipped through the smoke harmlessly. The mist went all the way up to a column and manifested into a man with a long black cape and a…pumpkin head?

  
_“Quoi?”_ Amelie murmured, narrowing her eyes at the figure. He had a deadly presence but it was hard to take it seriously, especially when the beings shotguns were decorated in a similar fashion.

  
“Behold, the Reaper!” The Witch’s voice called from everywhere. Now the man didn’t seem so ridiculous as he aimed and fired, jumping down to Amelie’s level. The vampire, with the speed only one of her species possessed, dodged the first two shots and grappled to the wall behind her, firing at the Reaper. The bullets sailed harmlessly through his body, half real half mist.

  
“I come for your soul,” The Reaper hissed, running towards Amelie and firing wildly. When his guns ran out of ammo he simply tossed them to the ground and picked new ones out of thin air. Amelie fired three more rounds before dashing away, taking cover in the shadows. Even a demon like the Reaper couldn’t see her there.

  
“Poor little vampire, forced to hide and run,” The Witch cooed, sounding sad. “Soon you will join my ranks, and you won’t be running anymore.”

  
“Over my dead vampiric corpse,” Widowmaker scoffed. She remained silent as the Reaper walked closer and closer, trying to find her but unable to in this darkness. She stayed in the shadows until he had passed her and was one foot away…two feet… then she shot him behind both knees. The Reaper fell to the ground and Amelie ran to him, kicking him in the face as he spun and knocking him down once more. She held him down with a foot then aimed her sniper at his head, emptying the rest of her bullets without dissipation until he disappeared with an angry roar.

  
“Very, _very_ good,” The Witch murmured. “But we are not done.”

  
“I did not come here to kill you,” Amelie said calmly, returning into plain view. “I came here to strike a deal.”

  
“I will not make a deal with the likes of you,” The Witch answered, by the sound of it she had shrugged. “Why make a deal when I can simply take your soul?”

  
Before Amelie could answer a gigantic roar came from inside the castle, turning the little blood that flowed through her veins to ice. She reloaded, aiming at the entrance of the castle. The wooden doors, barely on their hinges, creaked open and a figure lumbered out.

  
_“Putein,”_ The vampire muttered, for once worried.

  
“Yes…behold the might of Junkenstein’s monster!” The Witch laughed loudly as the monster charged Widowmaker, not even bothering to fire at her or take cover as Amelie emptied her clip into the beast.

  
The main gates of the castle, on the other side of the courtyard, began to open up with the loud noise of chains. They creaked loudly as they spread all the way, giving me a view of the inside of the castle. A simple hallway. But the (as Lena would say) real eye catcher was the beast inside.

  
He, if it could be called a he, was a giant hulking form that resembled an overly large human. He had green skin, short black hair, a large stomach which seemed to impossible to walk with, a brown coat and the word TERROR etched on his stomach. He wielded a hook and a gun made of…junk?

  
“Monster, kill her,” The Witch ordered.

  
Without hesitation the monster threw its hook, I rolled to the side and fired three shots before crouching. The hook sailed over my head and returned to him. He ran towards with me a terrible battle cry, his body just taking my bullets like a sponge as he approached. I clenched my teeth and ducked under his arm, kicking him back-  
He grabbed my foot and pulled me forward, quite easily throwing me a few yards behind him. I groaned and got to my feet, reloading. The monster ran towards me again and I aimed at its head, firing three times in its forehead. It howled in pain and pulled out a…rebreather? I watched in surprise as it took a large breath and healed it's few wounds. He laughed loudly and hooked me again, this time taking me by surprise. I yelped as I was suddenly pulled into his arms. Was he hugging me? Ha, of course not. I squirmed and yelled in pain as he tried to crush me.

  
_“Merde,"_ I muttered but I head-butted him and he stumbled back, loosening his grip on me just a bit. I managed to raise my gun under his chin, now in machine gun form and pulled the trigger until the magazine was empty. The beast seemed to absorb the bullets as a sponge and didn’t even slow down. Amelie ducked under its first swing, rolling back as it tried to step on her. She swiftly jumped to the side, avoiding a ball of scraps and junk, then again, and again. By then she had reloaded and would quickly take aim to fire at his head, then run away. The monster was strong and intimidating, but extremely slow and not very smart.

  
“Amelie, please,” The Witch said, making the sniper freeze. How did she know that name? Amelie hadn’t used it in years. During this quick moment, the monster swung at Widowmaker and smashed his fist into her stomach. She went back several feet and hit a column, falling to the ground. She groaned and blinked a couple times, yelping and sinking lower. A blast of shrapnel barely missed her head. She rolled to the side and got back on her feet, hissing at the beast.

  
“Kill her,” The Witch ordered.

  
Junkenstein’s monster seemed…victorious. He had that air of triumph and Widowmaker couldn’t figure out why, before she could react the metal hook shot out of his hand and went around her waist, the two spikes on it impaling into her side. She clenched her teeth, ignoring the pain, and as the monster pulled her forward and into her grasp she shoved her rifle under its chin.

  
“Nothing will kill me,” Amelie hissed, her eyes burning with hatred. The image of Lena’s body appeared in front of her and she bared her fangs, firing round after round into the monster’s head, not stopping until she ran out of bullets. And when she did, even though the monster was probably dead, she wretched his own gun from his fingers and fired a final shot into him. His grasp on her was finally released and he fell onto the ground, dead. Widowmaker pulled the hook out of her side and tossed it to the ground, breathing hard. She was bleeding badly from the two wounds on her body, but she still picked up her rifle and reloaded it. She noted she was almost out of bullets.

  
“Very good, _vampir,”_ The Witch mumbled. Once again, the doors creaked open and a form stepped out. The Witch didn’t even bother to announce this new enemy, almost as if it wasn’t worth it. A man with a peg leg, a terribly arched back came forth, and a scientist’s cloak approached, smiling like a lunatic. Widowmaker raised an eyebrow.  
“Please, is this a joke?” Widowmaker murmured. She raised her gun and fired a single round which tore through his shoulder before he could even fire. The odd weapon in his hands fell to the ground and he yelled in anger and pain.

  
“I never expected much from that poor man,” The Witch muttered disappointedly.

  
“Well, I’ll make sure his death benefits someone,” Amelie whispered with the ghost of a grin. She approached the injured scientist and gently put her weapon on the ground, lifting the doctor up just a bit. He tried to bite her but she easily avoided that. She bared her teeth and got closer.

  
His screams could be heard for miles.

 

 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

 

“That was disturbing,” The Witch said as she finally walked into view. She walked right between the gates doors, heading directly to the vampire without a trace of fear or worry. Widowmaker, blood staining her lips, hissed and dropped the mad scientist. She grabbed her gun and stood up, her wounds now healed, but didn’t make any threatening moves.  
“You finally show yourself,” Amelie said, looking at the Witch up and down. Had she not been so evil, Amelie would have taken a moment to admit how attractive she was. Despite that ridiculous hat and the broom, it was no wonder men and women always fell under her spell.

  
“You came into my home, killed my three favorite minions, and yet you still haven’t attacked me,” The Witch said with a small, calculating smile. “Whatever you have come for you must want dearly, so, tell me, Amelie, what is it you want?”

  
“How do you know my name?” The sniper asked, narrowing her eyes. That little detail still bothered her greatly.

  
“Please, I am the terrifying witch of the wilds,” She said with a slur, holding her broom casually in one hand. “It is my business to know of individual such as you, besides, you almost killed me once. You didn’t think I’d forget that, yes?”

  
“Even so, no one has known my name for centuries, that information is buried,” Amelie replied unsurely, knitting her eyebrows. This wasn’t completely true, Lena did know her name, but Lena was dead.

  
“Magic does have its uses,” The other cooed, her face hardening just a fraction. “Now tell me; what do you want?”

  
“There were rumors, stories, sightings,” Widowmaker whispered, taking a step forward. Her eyes burned with that intensity from before, that desire that sparked such a curiosity inside the Witch she almost couldn’t contain herself. What could make the infamous Widowmaker feel so strongly? Or rather, why would anything make her feel this strongly. “Of your powers, what you have done but I am interested in one and only one…the power to return the dead back to life.”

  
“Oh dear,” The Witch said, smiling wider. “You haven’t gone mad, have you? Or is the wild vampire assassin playing games with me?” She laughed and even that was measured, acted to throw Widowmaker off. The Witch slowly began circling the widow, looking at every inch of her body.

  
“Is it true? Can you bring the dead back to this world?” Amelie asked, her voice barely a whisper. The Witch had made it behind her shoulder, leaning to the sniper’s ear so she could whisper as well.

  
“Yes.”

  
In that moment it felt like thousands and thousands of weights had been lifted off the sniper’s shoulders, the little hope she had been keeping now burst forward along with a waterfall of relief. She hadn’t been sure this would work, she had been desperate, but now that she knew it was real she wouldn’t rest until she brought Lena back, no matter what.

  
“I need you to resurrect someone…someone dear to me,” Amelie said, turning to face the Witch. Their faces were inches apart and the Witch only got closer, one hand caressing the sniper’s cheek.

  
“An old enemy who hasn’t suffered?” The Witch inquired, then she shook her head. “How about a friend who owes you favor? Wait, no, you are far too passionate for that. Perhaps…a lover?”

 

“Smart as always, Witch,” Amelie murmured through clenched teeth. The wielder of magic had obviously struck a nerve with this comment, but Widowmaker would not back down, not when she was so close. “I need you to bring back a woman called Lena Oxton.”

  
“A human woman?” The other asked, slowly walking back towards the gates.

  
_“Non,_ a human recently turned vampire. I have some of her belongings should you need the-“ Amelie frowned, anger surging through her as she was interrupted by the laughing of the Witch. It was nearly hysterical, it was triumphant, it was pure evil. The Witch pretended to wipe a tear, shaking her head to the widow.

  
“You ask for something impossible,” She finally declared, and Widowmaker felt a pain in her heart.

  
“You lie!” Amelie nearly yelled, aiming her rifle at the Witch. “Bring her back or so help me I will make sure you suffer for eternity!”

  
“Amelie, dear, I cannot resurrect someone who was already resurrected,” The Witch explained with a giggle.

  
“What do you mean she’s already been resurrected?” Amelie demanded. Instead of answering the Witch simply moved to a side and a new figure walked into view. She had messy hair, a cheerful smile, and two pistols on her sides.

  
“Come to crash another party?” Lena asked Amelie.

  
“What…what is this?” Amelie asked, lowering her rifle. “Lena, when did you- How did you-“

  
“Oi, mind calming down, love? You’re getting pretty jumpy there,” Lena said, frowning. “Did she kill the others, sweet cheeks?"

  
“Yes, but that doesn’t matter,” The Witch said. She put a gentle hand on Lena’s face and muttered a simple word. Immediately the Brit's eyes seemed milky and a lazy smile appeared on her face. It was almost as if she wasn’t really there.

  
“What did you do to her?!?” Amelie yelled, raising her rifle but the Witch had wisely put herself behind Lena, her arms wrapped around the smaller girl’s waist.

  
“She was such a good employee, I was very sad to see her go,” The Witch purred, one hand going through Lena’s hair. “And then I learned she had not only refused to work for me but she had started interacting with a vampire, my enemy no less!”

  
“What is that to you?” Widowmaker asked, taking a step closer but freezing when Lena’s hands shot to her weapons.

  
“Shh, calm down Lena, I’m here,” The Witch whispered and Lena immediately calmed down. She turned her gaze to the Comtesse again, grinning. “Who do you think gave you that message, so long ago? Who do you think sent that old man on the street? Who do you think told the brothers of you and Lena?”

  
“You…you were the one trying to kill me,” Amelie muttered. “Lena wasn’t supposed to be a part of this!”

  
“You made her a part of this the moment you decided to be involved with her,” The Witch argued. “Besides, I like her, she’s amusing.”

  
“Let her go, you return her to me and I will never cause you trouble,” The widow offered, perhaps a bit desperately. The Witch’s eyes glinted maliciously and she shook her head.  
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that, Lena doesn’t even remember you,” She answered with a shrug.

  
“There has to be some way, you have all that power! Give her back to me and you have my word I will leave, I won’t try to kill you, I swear!” Amelie begged, her eyes focused on Lena, looking so helpless, under such a cruel spell.

  
“I’m afraid I cannot return memories that have already been replaced.”

  
“What do you mean…replaced?”

  
The Witch snapped her fingers and a fog of sorts appeared next to her. The widow watched as it began to show a vision, an illusion maybe? She didn’t speak as Lena suddenly appeared, laying on a bed with a silky robe. She was sleeping peacefully but with a disturbed face. Suddenly, without a warning, she shot upwards and seemed to scream. A few moments later the Witch herself walked in, speaking gently to Lena, calming her down. The image made Amelie’s blood boil immediately.

  
“This was after she was burned at the stake, of course,” The Witch explained. “I convinced her you had bested her, turned her, and she had suffered but I knew this wasn’t her fault and brought her back, her past memories were filled with what would’ve happened if you were enemies.”

  
“I will kill you,” Amelie growled.

  
“You haven’t even seen the best part!” The Witch grinned widely, snapping her fingers again. The image changed to something else, it was more memories and moments passing by faster. No explanation was needed here, none at all. First, it showed the Witch and Lena having breakfast, Lena looking very tense and docile, but then the next showed the two of them having dinner and Lena was laughing like her normal self again. After that it showed Lena trying to walk around, the Witch kindly helping her, and more images flashed before them all with moments similar to these. Suddenly the flashes of illusions slowed down, Widowmaker saw the two women sitting on a porch under the moonlight, eating something. They were speaking in hushed tones and Lena seemed unusually nervous, but Amelie knew why she knew Lena better than herself. Lena spoke nervously, fumbling with her fingers, and suddenly the Witch leaned forward and gave her a soft kiss. Lena immediately melted, her arms going around the Witch’s neck as she kissed back. That image gave way to the last, which showed the two of them on a bed wrapped in silk blankets. Lena was sound asleep, smiling, while the Witch was stroking her hair gently and smiling deviously.

  
Each and every single minute Amelie spent watching those images tore at her, every image tore off another bit of her heart, breaking it into a thousand shards and then letting said shards crumbling away. She still loved Lena, she knew it wasn’t the Brit's heart that felt this way but the magic of the witch that twisted and controlled her.  
Widowmaker didn’t blink, didn’t waver, taking in the last few images with relish, letting it fuel her anger and her resolve. She was going to kill the witch her bare hands, going to watch as the life sputtered out of her like a flower wilting in the snow.

  
“Aw, is the poor vampire mad?” The Witch cooed, snapping her fingers. Immediately Lena snapped out of it, smiling widely at the witch and then turning to Widowmaker.

  
“She’s dangerous, Lena,” The Witch exclaimed in a panicky voice, managing to tear up. “She killed the others."

  
“Lena no-“

  
“Don’t take a single step closer!” Lena ordered, pulling out her pistols and aiming them at Widowmaker.

  
“Lena, please-“

  
“Kill her!” The Witch ordered, smiling widely at Widow but still sounding frightened for Lena. “Save me.”

  
"Don't worry," Lena said gently, her cheerful facing turning into something serious, powerful. "I won't let anything hurt you.”

  
“I love you."

  
That was the last straw, the last straw. This Witch had stolen Lena from Widowmaker, turned her against Widowmaker, she was cruel beyond belief. In that moment, staring into the murderous eyes of her lover, the vampire promised herself she'd kill the Witch. She'd get her revenge, no matter what.

  
Widowmaker hissed as Lena blinked forward, tackling the widow and sending them both outside the gate, towards the forest.

 


	6. One Thing Left To Do

“Lena she’s controlling you, it’s an illusion,” Widowmaker pleaded, side-stepping to avoid some shots then rolling behind a tree. “See through her magic, remember me!”

  
“Piss off,” Lena replied coldly, blinking into view. Both women fired at each other, each missing their shots. Lena would blink away, shooting, and Amelie would spin with abnormal grace. The two a whirlwind of movements, back and forth, left and right, down, up. Neither could hit each other.

  
Not that Amelie was actually trying. She didn’t want to hurt Lena, she didn’t want to hurt the second person she had loved this much in her life, she wouldn’t. But if she didn’t, what would Lena end up doing to her?

  
_I need to kill the witch, then all this will be over._

  
Widowmaker slung her rifle across her shoulder, hissing at her lover. Lena smirked and blinked towards her full speed. Amelie moved out of the way at the last second, grabbing Lena’s arm and spun the young woman in a full circle, ramming her into a tree. Lena fell to the ground, dropping her weapons and holding her head in pain.

  
“I’m sorry,” Amelie whispered, turning around. She had to make it back to the witch right now.

  
“No you don’t,” Lena murmured. Amelie heard the unmistakable sound of Lena recalling and hurled herself to the side, barely avoiding a flurry of plasma fire. “Why can’t you just go? Leave us alone, just leave!”

  
“I cannot leave you, Lena,” Amelie answered loudly, her voice cracking. “For the first time in centuries, you’re the only person I’ve ever cared about.”

  
“If you care about me then…then let me go,” Lena begged. “Let me be happy with Angela, I don’t know what you think we had but it isn’t real. I’d never been with a vampire.”

  
“You are a vampire, and what we had is unforgettable,” Amelie said. “Your name is Lena Oxton, you’ve lived in England your entire life.”

  
“Anyone can tell me that,” The Messenger spat.

  
“You became a messenger when you were merely sixteen,” Amelie continued. “You began with legal issues, trying to support your poor family in the city.”

  
“How…how did you-“

  
“Realizing this wouldn’t give you and your family enough money you began working for shadier people.” The widow sighed, carefully stepping into view. Lena kept her pistols trained on her former love but she didn’t shoot. “When you were eighteen you returned home to find your family dead, all slaughtered by a rather dangerous employer of yours that didn’t like your work.”

  
“Shut up,” Lena murmured, shaking ever so slightly.

  
“You’re also a vampire-“  
“Lies!” Lena blinked forward, tackling Amelie to the ground. The two of them spun several times before stopping, Lena on top of her lover, glaring down at her, yet looking so insecure.

  
“Check your neck, smell my scent, feel the connection we have because I turned you,” Amelie pleaded. “You _let_ me do this so we may remain together forever.”

  
“I-I…I can’t, I won’t-“

  
“Smell, Lena, please,” Amelie begged, wrapping her arms around Lena’s neck and pulling her closer. “Do it.”

  
And she did. First, like a human. She just sniffed through her nose and, under other circumstances this would’ve been funny, but then she let herself relax a bit, she actually smelled the blood. When she finally opened her eyes, focused on Widowmaker, her eyes were teary.

  
“I’m…I’m a vampire then,” She murmured.

  
“Yes, exactly, you understand what’s happened now? That witch has fooled you, she’s taken you from me,” Amelie repeated, hopeful. “Help me kill her, then we can run away and live in peace.”

  
“I love… _I love her_ ,” Lena answered, her face scared but determined, her small hands gripping Widowmaker’s neck and squeezing it with sudden strength a normal human would not possess.

  
Widowmaker saw Lena’s eyes glaze over, filled with an irrational anger. It was the witch’s magic, if she were dead then Amelie could convince Lena of who she was. But she’d never get the witch if she couldn’t get past Lena.

  
“I’m sorry,” Amelie managed to whisper, wrapping her legs around Lena and spinning. Now their roles were reversed, Widowmaker on top of Lena. She easily grabbed Lena’s wrists and pinned her to the ground.

  
“Let me go-“

  
“The easiest way to subdue anyone is draining them, you’ll understand later,” Amelie rapidly explained. She forced the other’s arms down then bit down onto her neck hard. Blood flowed freely into her mouth, Lena yelled in desperation, in fear. For her, this was a first time, and it was forced on her. Seeing the fear her lover had for her broke Widow’s heart but she didn’t stop, letting the calming properties of the vampire take their effect. Slowly, very slowly, Lena slumped, letting Amelie do what she might.

  
“I’m sorry,” Amelie whispered, standing up and wiping her mouth. Her body buzzed with energy, her eyes glowed red. She retrieved her rifle and turned towards the castle which loomed high above the forest trees.

  
“Good, you save me the work,” A voice said. Amelie spun and raised her rifle, blocking a silver sword that nearly cut her head off. In front of her stood the second brother, Genji. He grunted, slowly pushing her back. “Did you think you could escape me? Escape justice? You monster!”

  
He jumped back then dashed passed her, cutting her side. She hissed and spun, firing three times. With utmost precision, Genji deflected all three, sending two sideways and the third towards Widow. The assassin barely moved her head to the side and it missed, leaving a small cut on her cheek.

  
“You’re going to see your brother soon,” Amelie promised, looking through her sights.

  
“I’m going to kill you, and then I’ll take care of your lover, and the of the witch,” Genji promised. “Then I’ll continue to cleanse the world of all your presence!”

  
“You won’t live through the night,” She hissed.

  
Genji charged towards Amelie and she fired, one, two, three times again. He flipped over one, landed in a slide under the other, but the third hit his shoulder. He didn’t seem to register the wound as he spun the blade in one hand and slashed-

  
Only to be tackled by Lena, the two of them were thrown against a tree, rolling around like angry cats. Amelie took aim but couldn’t hit him without hurting Lena. They continued wrestling each other, but Lena had been weakened. Genji finally slammed his fist into her face and jumped to his feet, holding her in front of him. He had a sword against her back and an arm around her neck.

  
“This is what love gets you!” Geni roared. “This is what loving that vampire has gotten you!”

  
“I don’t love her!” Lena screamed, angry. “I did this for the witch! I’ll protect her no matter what!”

  
“Witch, vampire, it doesn’t matter,” Genji replied. “You die either way.”

  
Amelie screamed at the top of her lungs as the sword pierced Lena’s abdomen, covered in blood. Lena’s face tightened with pain, she clenched her teeth, then grabbed the cyborg behind her and flipped him over before falling to her knees. Without hesitation Amelie fired, creating a hole in his skull. Genji’s body fell to the ground, lifeless.

  
“Lena, no no no, not again,” Amelie said, dashing to her fallen partner. She knelt next to Lena, holding her in both arms. The blood seeped out, staining the assassin’s clothing. “Lena, feed off me, heal, now.”

  
“Never,” Lena rasped. “I’m not…not one of you, I don’t know you. I hate you. Leave…leave Angela alone.”

  
Lena weakly tried to grab Amelie’s neck, but she began panting, her eyes began to tear up with fear and pain. Widowmaker watched as, in front of her eyes, in her arms, Lena died once more. But this time it was worse, yes it lacked the screaming, the suffering, but Lena was dying as she hated Amelie, she’d never remember any of the moments they spent together.

  
Lena was gone for good.

  
“I’m so sorry,” Amelie whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her lips and laying her down.

  
There was only one thing left to do.

 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

Useless useless useless useless _useless._

  
All of her toys, all the work she took to get them under her command, and that one vampire killed them all! They were useless, a waste of time. She should’ve tried to control the vampire ages ago, sadly monsters like her were always harder to command. They had a way to break the magical connection. She could feel Lena, before she died, wavering. Her connection growing weak.

  
_Well, it didn’t break before she died. She died loving me_ , Angela thought, smirking evilly.

  
The second she felt Lena’s connection wavering she had decided to get out of there, she wasn’t going to take any kind of chances, not with Widowmaker. By the time her pet had actually died Angela had already been halfway to the docks, where she had a ship ready to set sail. She had spent so much time in this country, it’d be a shame to leave, but she had to.

  
“Ah, someday I’ll get my revenge vampir,” The witch murmured.

  
“No, you won’t,” Amelie whispered back. Angela’s heart skipped a beat as she felt someone grab her from behind and spin her around, punching her in the face. She tried to pull away but was much too weak compared to the widow. Amelie punched her again, the again, then tossed her down. Angela raised her hand, ready to cast a spell, but Amelie tossed something into her shoulder.

  
“W-what- How did you-“

  
“You thought I would face you without having a way to dampen your magic?” Amelie asked, her voice cold as ice. Angela grabbed the object and pulled it out of her shoulder, realizing it was a syringe.

  
“You…you had an alchemist in your castle, she escaped the brothers,” Angela muttered, her heart racing.

  
“Yes, she gave me the potions to defeat you,” Amelie replied, kneeling next to Angela.

  
“Do it then, kill me,” Angela dared, although she couldn’t hide the fear in her voice.

  
“Kill you?” Widowmaker grinned insanely, shaking her head. “I have something much better planned for you.”

  
What Widowmaker did would never come to light in the human world, even years after the witch succumbed to the pain inflicted upon her, no one would ever know.

  
And yet, despite these years of revenge, Amelie would always go the porch, look up at the moon and tear up. No amount of revenge would ever return the love she once felt back to her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was it for this fic! If you liked it, follow me for more~  
> Soon I'll have another one which I'm actually putting /effort/ into (>gasp< Me? Upload a fic that isn't rushed and messy? Weird I know) and I only have two words for you: Talon Tracer  
> Welp, that's all! Tell me what you thought and see you later ~(^~^)~

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to share this around tELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT <3


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